In light of recent remarks by eight-division boxing world champion and Filipino congressman Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao against LGBT, calling them “worse than animals” because animals are supposedly better since they know that bolts only go into nuts, we are calling for three sanctions against Pacquiao in the name of justice and to advance affirmative action, namely:

(1) His declaration as a nuisance candidate in the Philippine senatorial elections

(2) The boycott of all his remaining endorsements after Nike’s withdrawal of their support; and last but not the least–

Now, we would love to expound on items one and two on our list but according to our research team, Facebook is already flooded with passionate theses about these rational and righteous causes by your own friends who are only too glad for an excuse to practice their almost-forgotten essay-writing techniques, so let us move on to number three; that is, the burning of half of Pacquiao’s mustache.

We know the big question on your mind right now: Why? Why call for the burning of half of Pacquiao’s mustache? Why not the full mustache?

As concisely as we could, please let us explain our position as regards this matter of tremendous consequence for the future of gender equality here in the nation–and Pacquiao being an international celebrity–around the world.

Any kind of punishment must be commensurate to the crime, and since Pacquiao said homosexuals are worse than animals, clearly with the intent of proclaiming the unfounded superiority of heterosexuals, he deserves only partial upper-lip facial-hair incineration as opposed to full upper-lip facial-hair incineration. The reason being that it has long been established that animals are in fact better than humans, and human beings are nothing less than the dregs of life’s evolution here on earth. The bases of this argument, both scientific and philosophical, are quite solid. To cite just a few examples: animals never caused climate change (the dinosaurs definitely never produced enough poisonous gas through their farts that they caused global warming and their eventual extinction; an asteroid did it for them), animals never made wonky, jam-packed trains that broke down 5 days a week, and animals never savaged their kind on social media through semi-vague passive-aggressive posts day after day.

Clearly, animals are way better than human beings–all human beings–not just homosexuals. So taking this proposition into account, we can confidently say that Pacquiao was only half-wrong in his statement.

Had he said that both heterosexuals AND homosexuals are better than animals, then we would be aggressively calling for the searing of his entire mustache, not just half of it.

Pacquiao in his younger years had light mustache indicating normal, mild religiousness.

Take note: this cause–while admittedly quite common and so subtle that it may be mistaken as uninspired–is strongly symbolic at the very core. Pacquiao’s mustache is not like any other facial hair worn by your average Joe. A cursory look at the boxing legend’s history reveals that the growth of his mustache runs parallel with his unhealthy obsession with his faith. Before Pacquiao turned into a raving born-again Christian pastor with outrageous ambitions of being the President of the Philippines (which may still be possible looking at how bad things are in this country), he was a normal, moderately worshipping, totally mediocre Catholic who balanced praying with equal amounts of gambling and womanizing. He was perfectly all right back in those days when it could be remembered that his mustache was only light and sparse like those found in boys just hitting puberty.

Pacquiao in his older age has grown a thick mustache signalling his destructive fanaticism.

However, as his mustache grew thicker and fuzzier, Pacquiao transformed into an insatiable and violent gay-bashing machine who calls in his sleep for the automated eradication of gayness via smart machine guns in an Avenger Helicarrier. This metamorphosis is truly shocking considering that Pacquiao was previously known as some sort of a philanthropist who may have helped a lot of people, especially in Mindanao. Fast-forward to the present time and Filipinos would rather celebrate Christmas with Floyd Mayweather Jr., another sporting icon who pioneered the use of women as punching bags and speed balls.

We therefore call on all citizens, not just of the Philippines, but of the civilized world, for the half-burning of this prickly symbol of bigotry, so that everyone may know the seriousness of the issue at hand. However, we do clarify that this method of protest cannot and must not be undertaken without the full consent of Pacquiao. If Pacquiao cannot find it in his broken conscience to allow us the just execution of this punishment, then the burning of half his mustache in all posters and images showing his smug Christian mug would suffice.

Sound off if you agree with this petition and use the hashtag #BurnPacstache. Remember: global gender equality hangs in the balance.

I can’t say I know Tiffany Uy that much but nevertheless, I have many thoughts about her because I’ve been seeing her on my Facebook Newsfeed a whole lot these days.

First off, I think Tiffany Uy is smart. Like really, really, really smart. I mean I heard she broke the record for the highest grade in the University of the Philippines that was standing since World War II. She must have been a real hardcore beast of a bookworm for her to nuke that record into smithereens. Like, if it’s true that knowledge is power, she would be nothing less than the Hulk. Or She-Hulk. And she’d be like “TIFFANY UY SMASH!” and she’d be all green and cranky but really, really, really smart unlike the real Hulk.

I know she’s a biology student. Or I guess a full-fledged biologist now, right? And of course, she can now go on and create human clones… because biologists create clones, right? I frankly don’t know of any other function of biologists except to manufacture clones in a laboratory.

So I expect her to manufacture clones of herself within a year of graduating from UP. She’ll have her own hidden laboratory underground their house like Dexter and it will have rows and rows of sleeping Tiffany Uy clones in capsules. These clones will all have her perfect genes that will allow them to break UP grade records for a hundred more years. And they will all be equipped with bubbly personalities… and have her perfect bobbed hair impervious to split ends.

Tiffany Uy will probably have her own army of clones like the Star Wars Galactic Empire except she won’t be on the dark side. Binay and his ilk will be on the dark side as always, and Tiffany Uy will be like the Chosen One destined to bring balance to the Force in this country. With the help of her clone army, the people of the Philippines will be able to EDSA IV (it’s four, right?) Binay’s ass back to where it belongs (because of course he’ll be our next President, just give it up). And then since there clearly will not be any other person more qualified to take the presidency, we will happily make substantial changes to the Constitution, and gladly install Tiffany Uy as the youngest President of the Philippines–the youngest president in the history of the world.

She will make drastic changes to this country, that President Tiffany Uy. Don’t worry; we won’t be calling her PnUy because that would be just dumb. But on the first quarter of her reign of excellence, she’ll drive a same-sex marriage bill into law–and be like “Fuck the CBCP!” because biologists are atheists, right? I mean, how can you make human clones if you’re not an atheist? So President Tiffany Uy will be a kickass liberal atheist president and she will allow LGBT to marry like they should. In return, the LGBT will willingly join her clone army and fight for her in the Philippines’ war vs China.

That would be the defining event of her term–the Phil-China War to finally end once and for all the tyranny in the seas committed based on ancient Chinese maps frankly nobody gives a fuck about in modern times. But since Tiffany Uy is like partially Chinese or something, there will be a controversy stirred by the now marginalized CBCP about where her loyalties lie. But Filipinos will all be like, “Nah, stop with your bullshit, CBCP. We love President Tiffany Uy and know in our hearts she’ll fight for the country as ferociously as she once studied to get a weighted average grade of 1.004 in UP! Besides, we’re all atheists now. We don’t care anymore what you think of national issues.” And all will be good.

So the war will go on but it will be short-lived. China will think they can bomb the shit out of us with their cheap plastic destroyers made in China but they will never see Tiffany Uy’s biologically enhanced clone army descending upon Beijing from the skies. These clones–aside from being equipped with bubbly personalities and split-end-resistant-bobbed-hair–will have the strength of a Tamaraw, our national animal, and large wings of the monkey-eating eagle, our national bird. And they’re all really, really, really smart. So smart they can fashion super weapons out of everyday things like rocks and sticks. So this mutant army will bring China down on its knees and they’ll finally let us keep the Spratly Islands, which will of course be renamed Tiffany Uy Islands and will host an all-female community of Tiffany Uy clones like Amazons.

We will never have a need for any other president again. When the original Tiffany Uy expires, we simply awaken another one from her underground lab and pass the presidential responsibilities to her, which she’ll earnestly take for the pride of our nation. Corruption will end. The Binays will be deported to China where the Chinese won’t give a shit about what they’ll say because they can’t understand Tagalog. Poverty will be reduced to zero. We won’t have to dream of Duterte cracking down on crime because it will be eradicated by the clone army. And Jiro Manio will have a home once more and win an international Oscar after being inspired by Tiffany Uy’s great deeds.

I can’t wait for this to happen. The future shines bright with that kid out there.

I really don’t agree with same-sex marriage because it is clearly written in The Little Prince, Page 14, Paragraph 2:

“When you’ve finished your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must see to it that you pull up regularly all the baobabs, at the very first moment when they can be distinguished from the rosebushes which they resemble so closely in their earliest youth. It is very tedious work.”

There is no denying the clarity of Saint-Exupérian text on this subject. Baobabs may look like rosebushes but baobabs are bad.

Furthermore, on Page 20, Paragraph 5:

“There are no tigers on my planet,” the little prince objected. “And, anyway, tigers do not eat weeds.”

The Little Prince elaborates on this matter of consequence on Page 32, Paragraph 11:

“If I owned a silk scarf,” he said, “I could put it around my neck and take it away with me. If I owned a flower, I could pluck that flower and take it away with me. But you cannot pluck the stars from heaven . . .”

You CANNOT pluck the stars from heaven! You cannot pluck the stars from heaven, my brothers! And even if you could, what good will that do if you have giant baobabs in your pathetic little planet with three volcanoes, one of which is extinct (but one never knows)? But fear not! Even with all these baobabs growing unchecked all over your planet, it is not impossible to chase the sunshine! Page 34, Paragraph 10:

“Your planet is so small that three strides will take you all the way around it. To be always in the sunshine, you need only walk along rather slowly. When you want to rest, you will walk–and the day will last as long as you like.”

See? As mere mortals, we are understandably limited in our understanding of this subject just like the poor lamplighter! And I fear that because of this hideous ruling, we have been judged unworthy just as explicitly written in the word of the Prince Page 43, Paragraph 9:

“What a queer planet!” he thought. “It is altogether dry, and altogether pointed, and altogether harsh and forbidding. And the people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them . . . On my planet I had a flower; she always was the first to speak . . .”

The temptation to err in our ways in these trying times is not lost on me. When all our friends have put colorful rainbow filters over their profile pictures, remember that our will is being tested by Saint-Exupéry in the most mysterious of ways. But as good Little Princians, we must be steadfast in our belief.

Let me end with the secret knowledge of the fox, everyone of us knows by heart. The untamed fox says in Page 46, Paragraph 2:

“Men,” said the fox. “They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests.”